Didn’t she realize she didn’t have to be naked in that dress to unleash the wildness in a man’s blood?
It was the legs, he decided. The bare legs and feet. How could she be anything but vulnerable with her toes showing? And Sarah Pettijohn vulnerable was a very attractive bit. He wanted to lift her up in his arms. Protect her.
And in turn, she’d probably spit on him. Certainly she wouldn’t thank him for it.
Ah, yes, Mrs. Pettijohn had a sharp tongue. He was the fool with the cock who conveniently forgot how independent she was. Damn it all.
“I’ll see you to the door and no further,” he bit out. “I understand you find my company loathsome. You needn’t worry I will force myself upon you.” With those words, Gavin started toward the house, but she didn’t follow.
Of course not. That would be simple.
He faced her. “Are you coming?”
“I don’t find you loathsome,” she answered.
He blinked, uncertain what she meant until he remembered his own heated words. He cut the air with the movement of his hand, denying her denial.
“I don’t,” she insisted, approaching him. A cat would envy the shape of her eyes, or the way the dark lashes framing them added to her every expression. She rested those eyes on him now. “Indeed, I appreciate your help this evening—” She stopped herself, even raising her palm as if to stem the flow of words.
Taking a moment to release her breath, she gathered his coat tighter around her shoulders and started again, “I don’t dislike you. I am aware I may have given that impression, but it is because of my own flaws, not yours, Your Grace.”
Back when they had spent days together chasing her niece, she had rarely addressed him by his title, and when she did, not politely.
Her use of it now put him on guard—and yet, she sounded contrite. Or, as contrite as her outspoken nature would allow her.
“You should remember,” she continued, “that I was the one who championed your suit for my niece’s hand. I thought you would be a good husband to her.”
“That’s not how I remember our argument at this very house when I set out to stop her from eloping with my brother Jack.”
“You were furious. I needed to protect her. Certainly you can appreciate that desire?” She lifted her shoulders to indicate his coat he’d forced upon her.
“I would not have harmed her.”
“But your brother?”
Her question resonated in the air. Jack was more than just Gavin’s brother; he was his twin. The elopement had kept the gossips going for months afterward.
“In the end, I gave them my blessing,” he pointed out, noncommittally.
“Yes, you did. I recognize that could have been difficult.”
This time it was his turn to shrug.
Her answer was a shrug back, and then she held out her hand as if they were equals, as if she were a man. “Let us set tensions aside between us. I do not find you loathsome, or think ill of you in any way.”
Even of my arousal? He swallowed the words.
The faintest hint of a smile crossed her face as if she’d read his mind. She had. “Or your manhood,” she confirmed.
For the second time that night, he felt heat creep up his neck. No one had the skill to disarm him. No one—except her. Which was unsettling. It was actually best they did keep apart. Especially since Gavin preferred dealing with people who knew their place, whom he could control.
Thankfully, the hack driver interrupted them. “Do you wish me to continue to wait, sir?” he called, a reminder that he had other fares to earn.
“A moment more,” Gavin said. He looked to Mrs. Pettijohn. “Well, I suppose we’re done.”
“Yes,” she agreed, a bit of a rueful note to her voice as if she was possibly a bit disappointed he was taking his leave of her. “Thank you again,” she added with a bit more cheer.
“You are welcome.” He waited for her to go inside.
